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92 Brainerd. "Yet our crops are as heavy as last year, and my inquiries seem to show that prices are fully as high. But our returns are a full forty per cent less. I confess that in comparison with yourself, Colonel, I am a very poor salesman. I feel greatly at fault that I have not brought you better returns."

He spoke dryly, looking the Colonel in the eye.

"Nothing to worry about. Quite expected. I had especial market for the fruit—firm gone out of business now—lucky year last year" muttered the Colonel.

"I am relieved to hear you say so," observed Brainerd. "Of course it can never happen again."

The Colonel escaped finally, feeling like a caught small boy. He was indignant; he had done nothing to be ashamed of. But he abandoned several half-formed ideas, such as secretly guaranteeing Brainerd's grocery bills.

Nevertheless on one point he was firm, just as Alice had been. He wanted Daphne to have a pony and he gave her one, together with a miniature stock saddle and a braided rawhide bridle. So far he and Mrs. Peyton had their way. But when it came to such matters as clothes, for example, they got no farther. Daphne grew up between them into the long-legged youngster we have seen, riding her pony, raising her puppies, reading her father's books, playing in the great tree she called Dolman's House—necessarily a varied education full of hiatuses. Her life was full of hiatuses, the Colonel thought as he waited for the lunch she was preparing. The matter of dress for example—Mrs. Peyton had long since given over interference there. Brainerd had inner citadels of independence one was not wise to attack "Here we are, fairy godpapa!" cried Daphne, triumphantly. "Here's something Aunt Allie taught me to make last week. See how you like it. And then we must go. I just remembered I told Aunt Allie I'd help her with the preserves this afternoon."

took the next steamer to the south, debarking at San Pedro, whence he soon arrived at Los Angeles.